


the morning air that we breathe

by inlovewithimpossibility



Series: cerys' quarantine and chill fics [12]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 5 Times, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Lian Yu Island (Arrow TV 2012), Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak Road Trip, Post-Season/Series 03, Post-Season/Series 07, Pre-Canon, Quarantine and Chill Fic Drive (Arrow TV 2012), Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23794081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithimpossibility/pseuds/inlovewithimpossibility
Summary: five mornings in oliver queen's life: from twenty to thirty-four, from party boy to husband and father of two
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Series: cerys' quarantine and chill fics [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667249
Comments: 39
Kudos: 242
Collections: Quarantine and Chill Fic Drive 2020





	the morning air that we breathe

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a small idea that popped into my head when I was talking to abby about the lack of olicity morning scenes on the show (still mad, this was not cathartic in that regard) 
> 
> I love these kind of *5 times* fics so I'm also going to claim it as the free space on the Q&C Fic Drive bingo card for tropes because I feel it's apt 
> 
> I really hope you all enjoy and if you do, please leave a kudos/comment! they make my day!

When Oliver is twenty, his mornings start at 1pm.

In his defense, he barely makes it in before 5am most nights and that combined with excessive amounts of alcohol starting to wear off makes for a good long sleep.

Sleeping in that late also leaves plenty of time for the girls Oliver brings home to leave before he has to do any form of awkward morning after interactions.

That’s perfect for Oliver because actually facing the consequences of his actions? That’s not really how he rolls.

He’ll deal with all that when he’s old and boring but for now, the party lifestyle works.

He groans one early afternoon as the drapes are unceremoniously pulled open and light floods the previously dark room.

“Up. Now.” The clearly unimpressed voice of Oliver’s father calls out, the deep and loud voice cutting through Oliver’s clouded brain like a hot knife.

“Ugh Dad.” Oliver huffs as he sits up, wincing as the bright light of the sun makes his head throb painfully. He can’t remember most of the previous night but it’s safe to say he consumed a lot of alcohol by the way his head is pounding.

“Are you aware it’s past midday?” Robert questions, standing at the end of Oliver’s bed, regarding his son with an unimpressed look. It doesn’t phase Oliver, he’s used to seeing his father look at him like that; it’s practically become his default expression when regarding Oliver.

“Ah you mean my version of 6am.” Oliver smirks as he tugs himself to sit up. He pulls the covers over him as he realises he’s naked and about to expose something he’d rather his dad didn’t see.

Did he bring someone home last night?

He honestly can’t remember, he’ll have to ask Tommy later.

“Oliver, you are not a child anymore. This is not cute _or_ funny. It’s just sad.” Robert huffs with a shake of his head and Oliver groans, resisting the urge to remark that it’s far too early for a lecture.

“What do you want, Dad?” He goes with instead, glancing down as he realises he’s got quite the bruise on his left thigh. Where’d he get that?

Another question for Tommy.

A scoff from his father draws Oliver’s attention back up and Oliver immediately winces at the look on Robert’s face.

“For you to wake up and realise that _this_ isn’t a life, it’s a mess. You’re going to have responsibilities and things you have to do, Oliver. You can’t spend your entire life coasting and letting other people fix your problems.” Robert frowns, looking at his son with disappointment written all over his face, but Oliver just smirks. He’s very used to his father’s disappointment, it’s something he’s come to terms with to be honest.

He’ll grow out of it eventually, that’s what Oliver always hears his mother say, and she’s right.

But like Oliver said, getting up early and doing work is for boring, old people.

“Seems to be working so far?” He counters with a smirk that just earns him another roll of the eyes.

“Oliver. Out of bed. Now. I have a board meeting in an hour and you will be coming with me. Do not make me late. You will regret it.” Robert states plainly as he opens the windows so that a cold breeze accompanies the bright light and adds nausea to the list of ailments Oliver is experiencing.

His father’s words register with him and Oliver groans.

This is certainly not his father’s first attempt to draw him into the company and Oliver knows it won’t be the last. But Robert is right, Oliver will regret it if he doesn’t move. He waited it out last time and the week with a frozen bank account was one of the worst he’s ever experienced.

“Ugh. Can you at least turn the coffee machine on?” Oliver groans as he watches his father walk across the room to the door.

“I can.” Robert smiles, nodding at Oliver before he slips out the room. The young man groans, wincing as his head throbs with every movement.

He’s going to need to locate some pain killers too.

* * *

When Oliver is twenty-two, his mornings start before the break of dawn.

Landing on the island has meant that everything has changed. Oliver has to learn how to stay alive and, even if the man is _so_ annoying, he’s grateful to Slade for helping him.

He knows he doesn’t have to.

Oliver, however, is not a fan of the alarm clock method he utilises which appears to consist of kicking him in the side until he wakes up.

“Up you get, kid. We’ve got breakfast to catch.” Slade calls in his thick accent when Oliver finally stirs and he groans as the hard forest floor presses into his back.

“Breakfast? I suppose there isn’t a coffee machine on this island.” He quips as he sits up, stretching to try and get rid of the kink in his shoulder but it’s to no avail.

“Not quite.” Slade snorts with a roll of his eyes, regarding Oliver with an unimpressed look.

Oliver still doesn’t know how to process what’s happened to him in the slightest. When he thinks of the people on that boat, Sara and all the crew, he feels awful that _he’s_ the one to have survived. He’s certainly to least deserving of it, the last few days have proven that.

Plus there’s the fact that whenever he closes his eyes, all Oliver can see is his father shooting himself in the head over and over like some sadistic version of Groundhog Day. 

Suddenly a knife flies past Oliver’s head, narrowly missing him and landing in the ground mere inches from his arm. Oliver turns to see Slade staring at him impatiently and his brow furrows. “What the hell?”

“You wanna survive, kid? Cause I can just leave you on the beach to die where I found you.” Slade counters quickly, shaking his head and Oliver frowns.

“That’s not what I…” Oliver starts but trails off when Slade just scoffs and starts to walk away. Scrambling to his feet, Oliver races after the built Australian, knowing that this guy is his best chance of survival. “Okay, what am I doing?”

“Good, let’s go.” Slade glances at him approvingly before leading him down to the shorefront so that they can see what they can find to eat.

* * *

When Oliver is thirty, his mornings are calmer than they’ve been in years.

It’s so nice to go to sleep at a normal hour, not spend his night running around the city dressed in leather, and to rest his body more than it’s had in years.

The best thing, however, and the most calm inducing, is the woman he gets to sleep next to.

Felicity Smoak is like no one Oliver has ever met.

She’s intelligent and funny and keeps him on his toes in the best possible way. She’s beautiful and sweet and even though it’s been months since they left Starling City together, Oliver is still in disbelief that he gets to call himself her boyfriend.

He’s been in love with her for years but to know she loves him back and for the two of them to be able to love so freely without worry of enemies or vigilante based revenge is one of the greatest gifts Oliver has ever received.

He wakes this morning to the gentle feel of Felicity’s soft lips trailing kisses across his bare chest and Oliver cracks open an eye to see her smiling up at him. The morning light seeps in through the open drapes to dance temptingly through her messy blonde curls and over the soft slope of her bare shoulders.

Good lord, she’s so beautiful.

“Hmm good morning.” Oliver tells her softly, reaching up to run his hand through her hair with a smile. Felicity’s smile grows into a grin and she leans back into his hand for a moment with a gentle groan as Oliver gently massages the back of her head.

“Morning.” She whispers softly, bending her head to press a kiss right over his heart as her eyes lock onto his. “You should always be drowned in sunlight.”

“Oh really?” Oliver counters amusedly, raising an eyebrow. The feeling is certainly mutual; he loves the sight of Felicity at all times but early in the morning is a particular favourite of his just because of how adorable her sleep filled demeanour can be.

“Did I say that aloud? My brain to mouth filter is even worse in the morning.” Felicity groans, dropping her head down to his chest and Oliver chuckles as her curls fan out across his skin like small, featherlight kisses.

“Honey, I don’t think it exists at any time of the day.” He teases, awkwardly bending his head so that he can press a kiss to the top of her forehead. His other hand lifts from the bed to slide up the bare skin of her back comfortingly with a chuckle.

“Oh, I can say all the things I do manage to hold back if you’d like?” Felicity pouts, suddenly lifting her head so that her chin rests on his chest and she’s staring up at him with a soft pout.

“You know I wish you would. I want to know everything.” Oliver counters, poking her gently in the side. He continues to tickle her when his gentle prod earns him a shriek and Felicity descends into giggles as his fingers dance across her skin.

“Oliver!” Felicity squeals as her laughter gets louder and she tries to climb off of him, heading for the edge of the bed.

“Oh no you don’t, you can’t escape me now, Smoak.” Oliver laughs, catching her easily by the waist and hauling her back into his lap.

“Ah, stop! Chicken! Chicken!” Felicity screams with laughter and Oliver stops his assasult, instead wrapping his arms around her waist to lean his chin on her shoulder.

He spends a moment nuzzling where her neck meets her shoulder and revelling in the fact that he is the one who gets to be here, holding her like this. He never would’ve thought even three months ago that he’d ever have the chance.

He’s so grateful to know he was wrong.

“You make coffee, I’ll make breakfast?” He offers after a while and, even though the idea of getting out of bed is slightly abhorrent, the grin that spreads across Felicity’s face makes it worth.

“You’re speaking my language, Queen.” She nods her head enthusiastically, turning to kiss him before she scrambles from the bed and reaches for his t-shirt from the night before.

Oliver watches her with a fond smile and knows that if he gets to spend his mornings like this even only for the next month, he’ll be the luckiest man in the world.

* * *

When Oliver is thirty-two, his mornings are lonely.

Having William in his life is such a blessing and he’s so grateful for the chance to get to know his son better, even if the circumstances within which that chance arose are horrific. The past few months have been hard but he and William have made some real progress recently and asking Felicity to tutor William for his math test was a real stroke of genius on his part.

However, having seen Felicity here in his apartment with his son makes her not being here for good that much harder. She’s so great with William and Oliver misses her something awful.

It’s so hard to know that she’s it for him, knowing she feels the same, and not be with her. It feels like three years ago all over again and he hates it.

“Hey Oliver.” William greets and Oliver steps out into the main area of the apartment in the morning. The teenager is sat at the breakfast bar, his head buried in his tablet and Oliver smiles at the sight.

“William, you sleep okay?” He asks as he moves to the fridge, immediately firing up a pan on the stove to start cooking eggs. He doesn’t have much time with William in the mornings before the teenager has to leave for school and Oliver is learning to cherish that precious time.

“You know I had a nightmare.” William frowns, although he still doesn’t look up from the tablet and Oliver frowns as well.

He does know that William had a nightmare. He seemed to have made so much progress with them but last night, Oliver had been sitting in the living room on the phone to Felicity when screaming from William’s room had sounded off around the entire apartment.

He knows from his own experience that recovering from trauma doesn’t always work in a linear fashion but when it’s watching his own son in pain, Oliver struggles with not knowing what to do. He said as much to Felicity when he returned to the phone but, as always, she talked him down with her unwavering belief in him.

“I know, I meant after that.” Oliver explains to William who shrugs, taking a sip of the orange juice he has next to him.

“Oh, yeah, fine.” The boy answers dismissively, still staring at the screen and Oliver sighs as he quickly cooks up the eggs and dices some fruit to place on the plate as well.

William still doesn’t move his eyes from his tablet when Oliver places the plate in front of him and the parent sighs, shaking his head. “William, can you look up from your tablet please?”

“It’s schoolwork!” William insists, even turning the screen around to show his father that he is indeed reading math problems.

“And it’s the morning, I’d like to share breakfast with my son whilst he doesn’t have his head buried in technology.” Oliver counters calmly as he reaches for a fork and starts to eat his own eggs.

“Ugh fine.” William groans, flicking the case back over the front of the tablet before laying it flat on the counter and starting on his breakfast. It takes him a few mouthfuls to start talking again and his question throws Oliver off. “When can Felicity come over again?”

“Oh… you need more help with math?” Oliver asks cautiously, not wanting to get his hopes too high. Seeing William and Felicity interact was one of the most beautiful sights Oliver thinks he’s ever seen and he seriously hopes that they can move towards it becoming the norm but he doesn’t want to rush things.

“No… well yes, but she’s cool and she makes you happy.” William answers with a smile and a shrug, looking up at Oliver from his eggs with a sweet expression that tugs on the father’s heartstrings.

“What do you mean?” Oliver presses, just wanting to clarify what William means and possible garner whether he’d be comfortable with Felicity make a more social visit.

“I’m a kid, not an idiot, Oliver. I know that she’s the only one who makes you smile like that. You guys should be together.” William scoffs as if it’s the simplest thing in the world and Oliver frowns, thinking of all the things that have road-blocked his and Felicity’s journey back to one another.

“It’s not as simple as that, William.” He tells his son with a shake of his head but William holds true to his resolve with a disbelieving chuckle.

“Is it not? Seems pretty simple to me.” The teenager comments with a smirk and Oliver narrows his eyes at him for a moment before shaking his head.

“Eat your eggs and bury your head back in your tablet.” Oliver teases and William grins, happily attending to the former and ignoring the latter.

* * *

When Oliver is thirty-four, his mornings start with the sound of crying.

“Your… turn…” Felicity groans from next to him and Oliver chuckles, turning to press a kiss to his wife’s temple before he stands from their bed and makes his way down the hallway to the nursery.

The cabin is finally starting to feel like home and Oliver is grateful. Mia grows every day and it’s honestly such a wonderful place for their little family, removed from the danger of the city.

“Whoa, baby girl. What is wrong?”

Oliver frowns as he enters the nursery to see Mia crying loudly in her crib, her little face red with tears that are streaming down her cheeks in thick droplets. He immediately reaches into the crib and scoops her into his arms, amazed at how much she’s grown in the two months since she was born.

He remembers being so nervous about what to do when she arrived. Yes, he’s not a first time dad, but he met William when he was eight, a fully formed child who could feed himself and generally do most of his own tasks. Babies are a whole new wheelhouse but his instincts kicked in very quickly.

And Mia? She’s just the most perfect little thing in the world.

He could never be angry about her waking him up at ridiculous hours of the morning when she looks up at him with those big wide eyes and that gummy smile.

She’s _everything._

“Hmm, you don’t need changing and I know Mama only feed you an hour ago. What’s going on, my Mia?” Oliver frowns as he checks her over, holding her close to his chest when he can’t immediately see the issue.

As he settles her there, however, Mia’s tears behind to subside and Oliver smiles as her little fist curls up against his chest.

“Oh baby, were you lonely? I get that. Daddy can’t sleep without Mama anymore. Not properly anyway.” Oliver smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he moves across the room and settles in the nursing chair. He adjusts her gently in his arms so that he’s cradling her more tightly and smiles down at her, using his free hand to gently rub his knuckle over the softness of her cheek. “Oh it’s okay Mia, Daddy’s here. He’s got you. I promise, baby girl, Daddy will always be here for you.”

He continues to whisper sweet nothings to his daughter until her breathing evens out and she finally closes her eyes to go back to sleep. “Yeah, that’s right, Mia. That’s it, little bear. You go right back to sleep, Daddy’s got you.”

“You know it’s rude to play with an already emotional woman’s emotions.”

Oliver startles at the sound of a voice and looks up to see Felicity stood in the doorway, tears swimming in her eyes as she takes in the sight of Oliver and Mia in the chair.

“Is that so?” He questions with a smile, taking in the sight of her in his sweatshirt. She’s so beautiful and combined with his son and the baby girl in his arms, Oliver knows he’s the luckiest man in the world to call them his family. “No playing intended, Miss Mia and I were just having a cuddle. I think she got a little lonely.”

“Oh I get that, Miss Mia. Your daddy’s arms are pretty magic.” Felicity hums as she makes her way across the room, settling on the arm of the chair and wrapping her arm around Oliver’s shoulders as she too stares down at their little miracle. “Hmm, she’s perfect.”

The tender expression on her face makes Oliver smile; Felicity is such an incredible mother and seeing her with their daughter is truly one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen. He’s so thankful to her for giving him such a miracle. “Isn’t she? I could just stare at her all day.”

“We did that. We made her.” Felicity grins as she nudges Oliver and he laughs softly, nodding his head in disbelief.

“Yeah we did. Helps that we’ve got some pretty impeccable genetics.” He tells his wife with a wink and she giggles, leaning her head against his as their stare down at their baby girl.

Oliver may not have slept fully through the night in months and most of his clothes may be covered in spit-up or milk, but he knows he wouldn’t trade this right here for anything.


End file.
